


Pawn of the Enforcer

by stuffilikeiwrite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Different Backgrounds For The Characters, Drama, F/M, Gen, Kind of Dark But Not Really, Romance, There Are Too Few Suited Vader/Padmé Fics Out There, Vaderdala - Freeform, so I wrote one myself, suited vader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffilikeiwrite/pseuds/stuffilikeiwrite
Summary: “Why did you save me?”“It does not matter.”
Relationships: Padmé Amidala & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Darth Vader, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Darth Vader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 46





	Pawn of the Enforcer

**Author's Note:**

> Okay - given that this is a drastically different AU compared to the source material; here is a necessary backstory before reading. 
> 
> Padmé Naberrie is a 25 year old, aspiring young politician of Naboo. She’s worked her way up after she finished her term as the elected Queen. 
> 
> Darth Vader is 32 years old, and has been the dreaded enforcer of the Empire for 5 years after he was snared by Palpatine, and reduced to living in his suit after a duel with his former adoptive father - the dark Jedi Obi Wan Kenobi.

“Why did you save me?”

“It does not matter.”

“But it _does!_ ”

Padmé couldn’t help but snapping, her tone sharp as she turned to glare at her untraditional savior. He wouldn’t even glance her way; his face already completely concealed from view by the faceplate and domed helmet he wore. 

He stood awkwardly by the view-port of the small Imperial shuttle; his height and broad shoulders making the interior look tiny and cramped. He barely fit, almost needing to crouch so as not to brush the low ceiling. She narrowed her eyes, expecting a reply but when she received none, all she could do was huff indignantly and look down. She felt battered and bruised, the explosion had left her sore; her ears still ringing and the ends of her unraveling bun singed. She hoped nothing was broken, but she’d probably end up with a few more scars from the cuts of shattered glass. A particularly deep one on her right cheek had just begun to dry.

“Fine. Then _don’t_ tell me,” she finally muttered; the irritation bleeding through.

She had heard the rumours of the Empire’s main enforcer ever since she was introduced to the Senate procedures, and to societal life on Naboo in general post Queenhood. The Emperor himself was of Naboo heritage, and thus, there would be quite a few celebratory processions taking place on planet annually. For now, he may reside on Coruscant at the Imperial Palace; rarely ever travelling off world - however, the men that would be representing him in his stead would be either Governor Tarkin, or _Darth Vader_.

Vader was a mysterious, and terrifying man. Not much was known of him; only that he had a knack for killing coworkers who weren’t up to par with his likings, or didn’t live up to his unprecedented standards. Although, he was better known for actively hunting and dispatching stray Force wielders and Rebels as the Empire’s legal assassin. He was second in command only to the Emperor himself; free to do mostly as he pleased. 

To children, he was the boogie man. A horror story told to keep them in line; to give them vivid nightmares. _‘Don’t go out at night, or Vader may come get you.’_

To adults; he was dreaded, the shadow looming over your shoulder walking down a dark alleyway. Few had spoken directly to him; few had caught much more of him than a fleeting glimpse of a long tar black cape; or the gleam of his polished helmet as he slipped out of attention after the obligatory public presentations were through.

Padmé was _lucky_. She knew as much. 

It was said that Vader did not particularly care for civilians; paid no heed regarding random casualties during official catastrophes. He was hardly the first out to lend a helping hand. Yet; here she was. Here _he_ was. 

The terrorist attack allegedly orchestrated by the Rebel Alliance during the celebration of Empire Day had been a true horror. The spot was poorly chosen. Indeed, if they wanted to garner attention and make a statement; the Rebellion had succeeded. But if they wanted to spare innocent lives, they had failed spectacularly. Padmé knew there had been young children present. Happy families, enjoying a carefree day of perhaps not rejoicing, but peace and companionship. While most people seemed to be nonchalant or indifferent towards the Imperial reign; Empire Day was an excuse just to live your best life. And on Naboo; to celebrate how far one of their own cree had risen.

She wasn’t sure how many bombs had gone off. It could have been several smaller ones, or one big, effective catalyst. Either way; the wreckage of what had once been the Royal Parlor with its adjoining lavish gardens now lay in ruins. Embedded in thick layers of wispy smoke, as anything that would burn nurtured the raging fires swallowing the surrounding greenland whole. Embers and ashes dancing in the air; a dark cloud rising against the clear, bright blue skies overhead. 

Padmé had always imagined Naboo would be spared from the verging civil war. She had been wrong. 

The image of the tiny Gungan girl who had passed away before she could reach her was still etched into her mind’s eye. The child’s face had been half burnt, twisted into an unrecognizable mass of flesh, tissue and bone. Squeezing her eyes shut, Padmé did her best to block it out.

“There was nothing you could have done for the child. Her time was up.”

Padmé’s head snapped up, and she stared in confused silence at her companion’s broad shouldered back. He stood with his thumbs hooked into the sides of his belt; only halfway turned towards her. His dark robes brushing the durasteel floor. Still, his mask was not visible from this angle. How did he know what she was thinking?

_Can he read my mind?_

She knew Vader had Force powers. Even those who did not believe in the Force as something one could harness or tap into to perform impossible feats, would whisper of Vader possessing some sort of supernatural abilities. Padmé had long since been taught of the past of what was once the Republic. Of Jedi and Sith; she had been acquainted with men and women devoted to the old religion, showing proof that at least part of the tales were true. She knew not which faction Vader was part of; but she felt the dread grow at the suggestion that he could reach inside of her head. Him having access to her psyche was a frightening thought. She blocked the notion out; her jaw set hard. She would not let herself be intimidated.

“That is none of your concern,” she huffed.

“Indeed.”

A pause, before Padmé added, “Neither is my life. I ask again; _why_ did you save me?”

Padmé didn’t remember too much of what happened after she failed to rescue the young girl. The smoke had been thickening but she refused to budge; venturing deeper into the vast crumbling building in search of survivors. She heard somebody’s agonizing cries for help in the distance; but both her eyesight and hearing had been impaired by the explosion, and they were failing her. 

It had been difficult to breathe, she remembered choking on scourging air. Her vision fading in and out. Eventually, she had ended up stumbling to her hands and knees, coughing and gasping. She’d realized she was going to die in there; unable to even get up to her feet and escape. She’d found she wasn’t afraid, just disappointed that _this_ would be how she died. 

Then, there had been the rasping sound of mechanic breathing. She’d looked up through blurry, dry eyes - only to vaguely recognize the towering black clad figure looming above her through the fog of her mind. 

The next thing she remembered was coming to, only half conscious. Somebody had been carrying her in their arms; and she had been wrapped in something warm and soft. She’d blinked her eyes a couple of times, head spinning as if she may just pass out again; or wretch. 

She’d done neither, pupils adjusting to the sharp sunlight. The chest she was pressed to felt harsh and cold; what felt like armour against her cheek, and there was some sort of metallic panel rubbing against her hip bone uncomfortably. She’d been dazed, confounded. Only then had she remembered the dark shadow standing above her; and as she peered up she could indeed confirm who was wishing her away to safety. She was locking eyes with the mouthpiece of _Darth Vader._

Padmé pursed her lips. This time, he appeared to be shifting his weight between his feet. She shivered slightly; her body attempting to reset itself after exposure to that intense heat. She felt so cold; pulling the cloth she was still covered in closer around her tiny shoulders. His cape; and it felt odd seeing him without it. Even odder that he had taken the time to wrap it around her. _Over your mouth to protect you_ , said a strange voice at the back of her mind. 

Vader himself looked strangely exposed; much more slender than the extra bulk of the wide mantel would have one believe.

“There was no need for you to concern yourself with rushing into fire. There was no one for you to save. The occupants were all either dead or dying,” Vader finally said; his booming vocals straight forward and noncommittal.

“How can you be so sure?” Padmé snapped, unable to believe his lack of compassion. “I couldn’t just stand and watch, I had to do something. There were children in there!”

“Indeed. However, sometimes all we _can_ do is nothing. It is foolish to risk everything for an uncertainty. One more life lost would have been an unnecessary addition.”

“So that’s why you saved me? Because it was unnecessary that I die?”

Padmé tilted her head to the side, eyes darting all over his frame. He seemed to be glancing over his own shoulder for a brief moment; the red tinted lenses of his face plate reflecting the orange glow of the setting sun - and the distant still dancing flames. The beams bouncing equally off his metallic armour pieces, the shins on his large boots.

“Yes.”

She didn’t know how to feel about that revelation. In one way, she suspected he may expect her to be grateful. And she should be. But she couldn’t help but imagine he may have ulterior motives, that he would expect something in return. She had never heard a story of Vader being benevolent; taking pity of a poor fool racing towards their own death only to swoop in and save them. He was not the merciful sort. Still, she was living proof he may not always be so unceremonious regarding the lives of others.

“You believe I saved you to use you for my own gain,” Vader stated; once again making Padmé uncomfortable and questioning his psychic abilities. “You are more _perceptive_ than you appear.”

“I have no reason to believe you wouldn’t,” Padmé rolled her eyes, ignoring the clear insult. “You’re not exactly considered Imperial of the year.”

“I would not have let you die, regardless. There is no use for your demise, yet I suggest you to watch your tongue.”

“Or else what? You already saved me, you’re going to kill me after putting in the effort?”

“I am not an animal. Still, do not test my patience, _your highness_.”

Padmé flinched. 

No one had referred to her as _'Your Highness'_ since her days as Queen. Her term had ended nearly a decade ago, and she’d hardly expected Vader to be that well traversed in Naboo politics and monarchy. Still, she supposed being The Emperor’s right hand man would force some historical knowledge onto him; out of courtesy. 

Perhaps, Vader had some roots here as well? She realized only then that she knew nothing of his past. 

_No one does_ , her mind whispered. Vader had simply appeared one day; introduced by the royal guards and Moff Tarkin through holo-net as the new enforcer of the Empire. As if he had materialized out of thin air.

“Alright,” she surrendered. “But you must not call me that.”

The title and its implications didn’t suit her right these days. It belonged to Sabé ever since the last election; and she wanted the privacy her current life offered her. Detached from the crown, and from the wealth of her kin. She wanted to climb the ladder by herself, without the association of who she had once been. What she had once meant to the planet.

“Very well.”

Vader fell quiet again; only the steady breaths of his respirator a constant. Padmé realized then that he was using a life support system. It had never been a secret, but she had just not thought of it before. Now, as the periodical breathing device filled up the empty void of silence surrounding them; it became painfully obvious. What had happened in order for him to require such assistance? 

Many of her legislature peers back in the day had mentioned Vader’s appearance as an intimidation tactic; when they had once discussed the subject in depth shortly after Vader’s debut. She didn’t remember how they’d stumbled onto the topic of Vader, only that he had been mentioned on the news and it had spiraled from there. Dormé had been convinced it was all an act to conceal his true visage; keeping his identity _unknown_ Clovis had stated that no one would want to live inside such a suit full time, unless absolutely necessary. Padmé herself had pointed out that they didn’t actually know whether Vader wore the suit full time, in his spare time.

Now, she had to admit that Clovis may have been right.

“I still want to know why you didn’t leave me to die.”

“I have already answered that question. Would you perhaps prefer me to proclaim I merely followed my orders, as it would serve a great displeasure to the Emperor to allow a former Queen lay down her life in any event with direct affiliations with the Rebel Alliance?”

Padmé could only stare at Vader. Was he serious? She felt the anger flare up inside; balling her tiny fists as she got up on wobbly legs to defend herself.

“I am _not_ part of the Rebellion!”

“The Emperor does not share your conviction, Amidala.”

So, he had at least listened to her request - although Amidala, too, was not a name she wished to be associated with. Still, his threatening tone was enough to cease any arguments for that.

“He should. I have never associated with the Rebel Alliance, neither will I. It wouldn’t benefit my current profession,” she settled on; folding her arms across her chest while still keeping the huge cloth of the cape wrapped around her frame. “You may see my records, in case you don’t believe me.”

“That’s where your lack of vision is evident. The Emperor has ample reason to suspect Bail Organa is involved with the Alliance; indeed, the motivation is clear. As I am aware, he is a close acquaintance of yours, is he _not_?”

“You lie.”

Padmé shook her head slowly; the disbelief plain on her face. She had been a close friend to viceroy Bail Organa of Alderaan for years. He was a sort of mentor figure, as well as an older brother; ever since they were seated together during legislature classes. He had taught her so much; he had always seemed to perhaps not be loyal towards the sovereign, but he had never spoken out against the Empire either. He’d seemed to consider himself midground, much as Padmé herself. 

Furthermore, she was well aware of Vader’s infamous manipulation tactics. It was another open secret among the Galaxy’s residents, although most might fall for it before they realized their mistake. Vader would do anything to get what he wanted out of his victims. But she wasn’t a victim, was she?

“You know I speak the truth,” said Vader, and pointed one gloved finger at her for emphasis. “I have traced his location back to Lothal, where the Alliance have supposedly set up their new base in the wake of their crippling defeat on Ryloth. However, there is additional information concerning his whereabouts and connections I need to supervise.”

“I… still don’t understand where I stand in this. Bail is my friend, but I know nothing of this.”

“No. You do not. And that is _precisely_ the intention. I have saved your life, and thus, you owe me a favour.”

Even if the vocoder made Vader’s voice come off mostly monotone; she could almost envision the cruel, predatory sneer behind that mask. She felt it in the air; the hairs at the back of her neck rising as she shuddered from an icy chill. The temperature as a whole seemed to be plummeting in Vader’s presence, as if he carried frost with him wherever he went.

“Ah. I figured as much. There is no good intent in you, only ill will. You wish me to spy on him, then?” Padmé hissed back; suddenly well aware of the mantel covering her shoulders and she shrugged it off; dismissing the earlier gesture of compassion for what it truly was.

“You are more competent than the Emperor gives you credit for.”

“He doesn’t _know_ me,” she retorted; watching Vader now turn fully towards her.

He took a few long strides and appeared to be glancing down at her. She barely reached his shoulders; yet she tipped her head back to glare right back up at him with fierce hazel eyes. She watched him fold his arms cross his arms over his own wide chest; mirroring her stance.

“He does _not_ ,” said Vader, and this time, the clear amusement was translating perfectly through the vocalization. “Now, I expect you to gather the essentials and accompany me off world. You shall receive further information when we dock with the Executor.”

“And if I refuse?”

Padmé knew the threat was coming before he even replied, but it still unnerved her and left her unable to deny him.

“In that case, I suspect there should be good reason to carry out an immediate royal reelection to fill the void spot as Queen - not to speak of the fatal terrorist attack that may befall the house of Naberrie. It would no doubt be widely broadcasted.”

She had no choice.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this came to me and I had to write it. If it seems interesting and gets good response, I might add onto it. Just leave a comment, in that case. 
> 
> Meanwhile, hope you enjoy!


End file.
